Deathbed
by Impassive
Summary: Deathbed, by Relient K. Kind a story for the song.


I lay here on my deathbed, in this dark room. This room used to be my father's room. He is long gone now. And so is my mother. I lay here, wishing I was a child again. My childhood. I inhale the dusty air, trying to remember. My childhood was not that pleasant. But it is better than my life today.

I wish my mother and father was here again. I know they would love me although I've done very bad things. I don't think I've been loved at all, after I left them. I made a bad choice.

I close my eyes, knowing that I will be home again. I see my mother telling me about the tales of war. Battle and glory.

Of course…

-

The year is 1914. I was only eight years old, and barely knew a thing. My parents could tell me tales of anything, and I would always believe them. My mother told me about the stories of war. She said that it was all about the battles and the glory. I believed her.

My father was a preacher, and he told all kinds of stories about Jesus Christ. My mother told me that he went off to the war, and he died on the beach. "With honor, too," she said to me, as I listened to her with awe.

I was sad, yes, but I was proud of my father. He died with honor. As an eight year old, I believed her, and began to think of my father as a hero. But then as I thought more, I knew that he left. He left us, to never return.

Anger. I knew that I had to stop believing my mother's foolish tales. I had to stop learning what I thought a father should be.

The year is 1947. I was now 14 years old. And I had changed. I was smoking and drinking liquor all day and night. I didn't stop even when I threw up. It was a habit. A habit I could not stop. Some bad habits are easy to quit. But not my habit.

I know I am going to die. I know it. I can smell death on my sheets. I lay here on my deathbed, waiting to die. This is the end. I remember the times of my childhood. When I loved my father. When I loved my mother. When I believed all her stories that she told me. When I thought my father was a good father. I close my eyes. I know I will be home again.

The year is 1954. I was 21 years old. I was married to my beautiful wife. I loved her with my whole heart. She only had 8 more months until she would become a mother. _It's easy to be sure you love someone._

But then that day came. She said she loved someone else. _I hadn't been loved yet myself. _

I was getting drunk all the time. I couldn't stop. That stupid habit. _I swear I was destined to fail and fail from the start. _

That wife. She took my pride when we divorced. And she took my lovely kids. Both of them. Not one was left with me.

I was scared of Him.

That Jesus guy.

I was scared of Jesus.

He was the one.

He was the one who made my life like this. _I don't deserve this, _a whisper from my lips. A sigh. _I give up. _

_I'm sorry, Jesus. Whatever in the world I did was wrong, I'm sorry. Sorry, sorry, sorry. I take it back, Jesus. Forgive me. Just please…help. Help. _

I found out I had cancer. I finally gave up. I was hopeless. No one would save me now. Not my ex-wife, not my dead mother, not my dead father, not my children. I had given up in this life, but in the next life I would have, I had hope.

I close my eyes, still in my deathbed.

_Before we go up, I thought we'd reminisce. One night, you asked for forgiveness. You cried wolf. The tears they soaked your fur. The blood dripped from your fangs. You said, 'What have I done?' You loved that lamb. With every sinful bone. And there you wept alone. Your heart was so contrite. You said, 'Jesus, please forgive me of my crimes. Sanctify this withered heart of mine. Stay with me until my life is through. And on that day, take me home with you.' I can smell death on the sheets covering me. I can't believe this is the end. _

_I can hear you whisper to me. _

_It's time to leave. _

_You'll never be lonely again. _His soft voice floods my mind. _You'll never be lonely again. You'll never be_

_lonely again. _

_You carried me home. I am the way. Follow me and take my hand. _I take His hand, expecting to go through His hand. He is spirit. But my hand touches His. Warmth. I am not cold. I feel hope.

_I am the truth. Embrace me and you'll understand. I am the life. Through me you'll live again._

_For I am love._

_I am love._

_I am_

_love. _

That was the day I died. My eyes close, and now I know I am home again.


End file.
